Draxy colored.  But her voice became very steady.

“I am Reuben Miller’s daughter, sir, and I am going there to get some money which a bad man owed my father.  We need the money, and there was no one else to go for it.”

The conductor had never heard of Una, but the tone of the sentence, “I am Reuben Miller’s daughter,” smote upon his heart, and made him as reverent to the young girl as if she had been a saint.

“I beg your pardon, Miss,” he said involuntarily.

Draxy looked at him with a bewildered expression, but made no reply.  She was too childlike to know that for the rough manner which had hurt her he ought to ask such pardon.

The conductor proceeded, still fingering the ticket:—­

“I don’t see how I can stop there.  It’s a great risk for me to take.  If there was only one of the Directors on board now.”  Draxy looked still more puzzled.  “No,” he said, giving her back the ticket:  “I can’t do it no how;” and he walked away.

Draxy stood still in despair.  In a few minutes he came back.  He could not account for its seeming to him such an utter impossibility to leave that girl to go on her journey at night.

“What shall you do?” said he.

“I think my father would prefer that I should find some proper place to spend the night here, and go on in the morning,” replied Draxy; “do you not think that would be better, sir?” she added, with an appealing, confiding tone which made the conductor feel more like her knight than ever.

“Yes, I think so, and I will give you my card to take to the hotel where I stay,” said he, and he plunged into the crowd again.

Draxy turned to a brakeman who had drawn near.

“Has the conductor the right to stop the train if he chooses?” said she.

“Why yes, Miss, he’s right enough, if that’s all.  Of course he’s got to have power to stop the train any minute.  But stoppin’ jest to let off a passenger, that’s different.”

Draxy closed her lips a little more firmly, and became less pale.  When the conductor came back and gave her his card, with the name of the hotel on it, she thanked him, took the card, but did not stir.  He looked at her earnestly, said “Good day, Miss,” lifted his hat, and disappeared.  Draxy smiled.  It yet wanted ten minutes of the time for the train to go.  She stood still, patiently biding her last chance.  The first bell rang—­the steam was up—­the crowd of passengers poured in; at the last minute but one came the conductor.  As he caught sight of Draxy’s erect, dignified figure, he started; before he could speak, Draxy said, “I waited, sir, for I thought at the last minute a director might come, or you might change your mind.”

The conductor laughed out, and seizing Draxy’s valise, exclaimed, “By George, I will stop the train for you, Miss Miller!  Hang me if I don’t; jump in!” and in one minute more Draxy was whirling out of the dark station into the broad sunlight, which dazzled her.